Into Oblivion
by Lily Ariel Black
Summary: A very short story, one girl's experience of the Fall of Kvatch - may be expanded into a full novel-length Fanfic if enough people like this one, or if inspiration hits me hard enough. Please R/R; I hope you like it!


**Into Oblivion**

***Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, nor do I own any characters you may recognize. I do own The Mage / Arya Harmon (the main / POV character in this story); she is based mildly on my PC in the game. Enjoy the story!**

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25th Last Seed, 3E 433  
Arya Harmon

Flames shot high, illuminating the sky as walls crumbled and terrified people ran for the city gates. The young mage gasped in shock as one small child ran through her as if passing through a ghost, followed by a vaguely reptilian daedra which set upon the child and tore him apart with teeth and talons, as the child's mother lay dying a few short feet away. Other daedra – some like the first, others larger and more lizard-like – leaped around the main courtyard in front of the chapel, killing anyone who dared attempt to flee. There were others, what seemed to be men with skin reddish black as burning coal and deep black eyes, entering the houses and dragging screaming victims out to be slain in the street.

Tears flowed unheeded down the mage's face as she screamed her rage and hatred into spells which fizzled out uselessly as soon as they left her fingers. The mage stared in shock at her hands, which glowed and crackled with the destructive magick she longed to release. The screams around her began to fade to a dull roar as she stared wildly around, the tears drying on her cheeks as she prayed for divine aid.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a young man in an ash-stained blue robe – a priest, she realized – leading a small group of frightened people into the Great Chapel of Akatosh; the spire on the roof of the Chapel had fallen into the courtyard below, yet the walls still stood against the demonic flames now destroying the rest of the city. She prayed those inside the Chapel would be safe from the daedric hordes.

The mage closed her eyes tight against the brightly burning fire and destruction, as if by not watching she could make the horrors disappear. The screams of dying people and the roars of the daedra faded to nothing; replaced by empty silence, which in it's very emptiness seemed louder than any roar. She opened her eyes once more to see that she was no longer in the ruined city; she was now standing on a low broken bridge jutting out over a sea of lava, staring at the cliffs on the other side. She knew now that what she sought was in the tower standing tall on the top of the cliffs, and as soon as the thought occurred to her she found herself suddenly on the other side, at the base of the cliffs.

As the mage began to climb, she heard a myriad of voices clamoring in her mind; louder and faster and more confusing as she climbed higher and higher; she reached the top and stood at the base of the tower, the hot wind whipping around her; she blinked – and swayed sharply as the many voices suddenly stopped, and now she found herself in a cold, cramped room with chipped stone walls, the space around her more starkly shadowed than the so recently hot flaming wasteland.

She was no longer alone. An old man, his face shadowed, spoke softly to her; she could hear the clash of steel and the cries of battle coming from somewhere nearby. She turned to face the old man, hearing his words as if from far away. He was speaking of death, of destruction; and of dreams and salvation.

The mage could sense the man's doom; he would die, and soon, and she could not prevent it. Though she did not know this man, she longed to be able to reassure him, to tell him all would be well. The realization hit with a crushing blow, and the mage wept silently as the man spoke to her. The sounds from the battle began to fade as the old man drew forth a shining red amulet and pressed it into her trembling hands.

The man's face faded away as the small room changed, again, the cold stone walls around her blurring into the coal-black walls of the tower, then fading away to reveal the howling, flaming wasteland; the scorching heat of the wasteland darkening again into the crumbling walls of the destroyed city, and finally all was dark as the echoes of the old man's words flowed through her mind.

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**The End (for now)**  
**Please R/R, tell me if this story should be expanded...**  
**Well-rounded critiques are welcomed, but pointless flames shall be ignored... or possibly blasted with Frost Spells... hehehe**  
**~Lily Ariel Black**


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